


Interdepartmental Communication

by roroLmoney



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast), the adventure zone: commitment
Genre: Alcohol, Commitment, F/F, I love these girls so much already you don't even know, Irene is an HR goddess, Nadiya is an HR nightmare, brief hospital scene, mild violence, so obviously they kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-15 04:11:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12313518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roroLmoney/pseuds/roroLmoney
Summary: When Nadiya is summoned to speak with HR about her performance so far in the Fellowship, she's confused and defensive. Little does she know the powerful force she's about to encounter that is Irene Baker.A story of life, love, and the redemptive life-altering power of Human Resources Departments.





	Interdepartmental Communication

**Author's Note:**

> god they're both just so good?? i'd die for them??  
> i just want them to kiss, i am a simple lesbean, don't @ me  
> this got so long i don't know what happened, i haven't written fanfic in six years  
> also happy Indigenous Peoples' Day, here's a list of organizations where you can donate: www (dot) diversitybestpractices (dot) com (slash) news-articles (slash) top-native-american-organizations-to-know

Nadiya sighs as she wanders through the HR department of the Fellowship, grateful it’s mostly empty, contemplating the three simultaneous experiments she had to leave behind in the lab. She doesn’t trust her staff to handle her work as far as she can throw them – which is actually pretty far now, given her new ability to alter the biochemical makeup of her body, so she should probably come up with a new metaphor. She wonders how much larger she could grow her muscles and how long the change would last, and makes a mental note to draft a procedure to test it out. It could definitely come up in a job one day. The Fellowship tends to throw anything and everything at her at short notice, and she’s not really used to responding to it yet.

Of all the unexpected curveballs, though, the red tape is the hardest to manage. She’s never had to deal with an HR department working in academia, and now she’s at the beck and call of any manager who asks to see her “to discuss important personnel-related issues in your department.” Nadiya just wants to focus on her work but now at the ‘Berg there are so many hoops to jump through; so many people to deal with before she can accomplish anything. She loves the research she’s doing, and the added resources of a big institution mean she won’t have to write a grant application ever again. She’s doing _good_ , and has the chance to get in on the ground floor of studying a revolutionary change in what it fundamentally means to be human. There are so many possibilities that come with this new power to _give powers_ to others. She has the chance at this Fellowship to study why some people are more receptive to it than others, how the specific powers are determined, what the chemical nature of these changes is…and she’s been lost in thought in front of the door for some time now. She shakes her musings off and knocks twice before entering immediately.

Ms. Baker is a tiny plump woman who looks about her age but is maybe half a foot shorter, with short dark hair and warm brown eyes. A tattoo of small black dots cross her cheeks in a line. She’s very pretty, Nadiya notes to herself, completely objectively. There are tiny crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes, and Nadiya can tell this is a woman who laughs often and fully.

“Ah, Dr. Jones, please sit down,” she says, motioning to the swivel chair across from her own. She’s sitting at a plain desk in a small windowless room, a situation that doesn’t make sense for someone who should be well-respected by the organization. Nadiya certainly can’t go anywhere without people bothering her for advice, autographs, or her time, and most people at the Fellowship bend over backwards to get her what she wants. There is a bookshelf lining one wall with titles like _Managing Interdepartmental Conflicts_ and _Tackling Tough Teams_ as well as some of Nadiya’s own publications (those must have been added last-minute as a feeble attempt to cater to her ego.) Another shelf is full of neatly organized files, one of which is open on her desk next to her computer. Nadiya sees her own name upside-down at the top of it but has absolutely no interest in trying to read it any further.

As Nadiya sits she can’t help but take in this woman, this super-HR-manager (as though there could possibly be a need to give superpowers to an _HR manager_ ), with a little scorn. What could she possibly have to say to her that’s so important she had to leave the lab early? It’s only 6pm and it’s Friday; she’ll probably have to come in early tomorrow to make up for the missed time and whatever mistake her postdocs are probably making right now without her supervision.

And why the cryptic note? Why couldn’t she just be clear, instead of vaguely asking to speak with her? Paired with the woman’s blithe smile and relaxed posture, Nadiya jumps instantly to seeing her as a nuisance. She knows she’s being unfair, and if she’d had more than 4 hours’ sleep and anything to eat that day she’d probably be more charitable, but unfortunately for Ms. Baker, neither of those things are true. So Nadiya gives a curt “Hello, Ms. Baker,” and a small nod, but can’t bring herself to smile.

“Irene is fine, please,” she responds with a warm smile.

What the fuck is she after? Is she a robot? Nobody smiles that genuinely on a Friday evening in a work meeting with a stranger.

And somehow she’s still going. “I’ve heard so much about you, Dr. Jones; it’s wonderful to finally meet you. How are you settling in here after your first week? The ‘Berg can be very overwhelming, I know.”

Nadiya really, _really_ does not want to make small talk with this woman.

“Please just tell me why you called me here, Ms. Baker,” she says, trying to sound patient. “I appreciate the niceties but I have a lot of work to finish up.”

Her smile doesn’t falter an inch. “Absolutely; I know how busy you are and I really appreciate your taking the time to see me today. I’m familiar with your research, and it can’t be easy to tear yourself away after such a breakthrough on such a fascinating topic.”

That was a lot of words for a “yes”, Nadiya thinks uncharitably. She’s never been susceptible to empty flattery; _she_ knows how important her work is and how good she is at her job, why would she need someone _else_ to confirm that for her? In her experience anyone who praises her just wants something from her, and she’s not in the business of playing these games. Nobody is just _nice_ for no reason, and the fact that she was called here at all has to be because Irene has some ulterior motive.

“Great,” she replies, trying to make it as curt as possible.

When it becomes clear that’s all she’s going to say, Irene continues. Nadiya has to hand it to her, she is an unflappable woman. Not a hint of frustration or anything but pleasant charitability has shown itself on her face.

“Well, I just wanted to get to know you better. We’re both newer hires here and obviously, given our unique abilities, we’ll be working quite closely together on assignments in the future. I thought it would be a good idea to establish a rapport so we can work together more effectively.” She pauses. “…Also, to be perfectly honest, I’d like to figure out why I’ve had four people in my office crying because of you and five official complaints filed about you in less than a week of your working here.”

Um. “Complaints? Why?”

She’s not too surprised about the crying, though. There’s never been room for anything but perfection in her lab and she knows that can put undue stress on her team. There’s no justification to being harsh or unkind to others usually, but Nadiya takes her work seriously and she expects the rest of her lab to do the same. If good research comes at such a cost, it’s better to weed out the people who can’t take it than keep them in a career where they keep screwing up something this important.

“A number of reasons, but most of them boil down to undue harshness or unprofessional conduct,” Irene says. She starts flipping through the file in front of her. “Let’s see, I’ve got…14-hour days demanded from your lab, dropping an intern’s laptop in the garbage damaging it severely, draining the lab of 2 months’ worth of coffee, canceling every team-building activity, party, and lab dinner for the rest of the year, and – _pfft_ – you called the old head of your department “outdated and incompetent to the point of serious danger to life and limb”? During your interview with him, to his face? He couldn’t not hire you but he specifically came to me the day before he moved out to file a complaint. Is all of this true?”

Aside from a brief lapse of control when she laughs, Irene stays calm with a friendly smile throughout this slander. Nadiya doesn’t know where to start.

“This is utterly ridiculous. I demand the best from my people because I know they can provide it, I hand-picked them myself, and if they can’t handle the work they’re more than free to leave. That intern was giving what was possibly the worst presentation I’ve ever seen in my life with absolutely nothing of value discernable in it, and didn’t deserve a laptop. I drink coffee, what could possibly be wrong with that, and I expect my team to focus on their research over frivolous parties. And that man _was_ so incompetent when researching highly reactive substances that he could easily have endangered someone. I can’t believe I’m being penalized for doing my work properly. What kind of institution –”

 _God_ she is so angry at this woman she’s speechless. She does not have words strong enough for her indictment, and Irene’s just sitting there still smiling placidly. Nadiya wants to see that façade crack more than anything.

“I didn’t mean to sound like I’m accusing you of anything. I think the issue here is a simple miscommunication between your need for a successful lab and our employees’ emotional well-being. It’s simply my job to facilitate that communication so everyone’s needs can be met without too much crying or pushing things off my desk.”

Oops, Nadiya does seem to have accidentally elbowed a book to the floor. Normally she has a tighter rein on her emotions, but being accused of screwing up her job has her incensed. She’s _good_ at her job – _perfect_ at it, really – why can’t Irene see that? What else matters? She realizes suddenly that she’s standing, and tries to sit down with as little sheepishness as possible. She’s still glowering at Irene, not believing a word of her speech for a second.

“I’m detecting some hostility from you?” Irene says, somehow managing to make a puzzled frown look blithely pleasant. “Is there something I can do to make you more comfortable?”

Oh, god, she’s actually _enjoying_ this, isn’t she? Nadiya is literally fuming – she loses control over her shape-shifting when her emotions get the best of her, and she is so frustrated by this woman’s bottomless well of customer service peppiness that her hair is steaming.

What an _asshole_. She’s totally intentionally messing with her, and Nadiya’s falling for it hook, line, and sinker.

…god damn it, it’s kind of hot.

She’s not going to let this cute asshole beat her, though. “You could stop calling me harsh and unprofessional and let me do my job, maybe?”

Seeing that she’s going nowhere, Irene extends a peace offering. “You know what? How about I buy you a drink? There’s a bar on the tip of the ‘Berg, and you look like you could use one.”

“What – why?” Nadiya asks, nonplussed.

“Well you seem uncomfortable in this environment, which is the exact opposite of what I was trying to get out of this meeting. I really do just want to get to know you better so I can understand what you need from me, and that’s looking impossible to do from across a desk. You are of course absolutely free to refuse, and we can keep talking here if you’d like.”

The corners of her eyes do crinkle up when she smiles like the tiny crow’s feet imply, and her long lashes brush against her face. She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and polishes her glasses while she waits for a response. Wow, those glasses look really good on her; Nadiya hadn’t realized.

Nadiya’s never been so nonplussed by someone before, and she finds herself wanting to get to know Irene better too. Against every instinct screaming in her brain, she nods. “That sounds acceptable.”

“Wonderful!” Irene gushes, and quickly packs her bag. While Irene’s getting ready, Nadiya shoots a quick email to everyone she knows is still in the lab with instructions on how to finish up her experiments. She pauses for a moment, and decides to add a _“Have a nice weekend.”_ at the end. She’s not a monster, and maybe forming connections with her team would lead to more cohesive and trustworthy work. Maybe.

Irene’s not much taller standing than she was sitting, which is just about the most adorable thing Nadiya’s ever seen. They walk out together towards the elevators. Most of the Fellowship have gone home, but of the few people they pass, everyone gives Nadiya a wide berth and makes a point to talk to Irene. They’re asking her what her plans for the weekend are; wishing her a good night; one man even gives her a quick hug. “Thanks for everything today,” he whispers in her ear, and Nadiya vomits in her mouth a little. Irene pats him on the back and tells him he can talk to her any time.

Nadiya thought Irene would want to make small talk on the long ride up the elevator, but she seems content with this companionable silence; definitely a point in her favor. When she glances down, though, Irene looks a little uncomfortable. Maybe she’s a little reserved when she’s off the clock? Nadiya wants to bang her head against the wall for thinking that’s cute, but god help her, it’s _so_ cute.

They come up to the surface of the ‘Berg, which is more of a tourist attraction than anything functional, with some restaurants, a little museum, a park, and a landing strip. It’s still unsettling to work surrounded by water as far as she can see, but she can manage to forget about it on the windowless lower levels.

“The bar’s this way.” Irene motions to the south and they make their way to a building on the very edge of the floating base, its balcony overlooking the ocean. There are a fair number of people crowding the dimly lit interior, mostly sitting together in small groups chatting about the week. They’re waiting for the evening flight back to the mainland, Nadiya guesses, unwinding as they do so. She hopes that with Irene’s encouragement to leave earlier than usual she won’t miss the last flight like she has almost every night this week. The Fellowship has sleeping quarters and a shower area but she’s had to ask her father to feed her cat every time; she hasn’t been so reliant on him since she was 15 and it’s embarrassing.

When they sit down at the bar the bartender recognizes Irene too, immediately coming up to her and asking what she’d like. Irene orders a beer and Nadiya a glass of their most expensive wine (hey, if Irene’s buying). As soon as Irene pulls out her wallet the bartender shakes her head and says, “drinks always on the house for you, Irene. And for your date.”

“Thank you, Janice,” Irene says, at the same time as Nadiya’s “I am _absolutely_ not her date.”

Irene chuckles at the scandalized expression on her face, and subtly slides a $5 into the tips jar when Janice turns to grab their drinks.

Is Irene’s superpower getting everyone around her to adore her? That would be pretty appropriate for an HR department head, Nadiya supposes, but wonders why it hasn’t worked on her yet.

“I helped Janice out of a sticky issue with one of her coworkers a few days ago,” Irene says, almost preternaturally noticing Nadiya’s confusion. “He was mixing all his drinks by stirring them with his fingers. When I was called in to discuss hygiene with him, he was so angry he poured a martini on my head and sprayed me with the soda nozzle.

Nadiya guffaws. “I had no idea life in as an HR head was so exciting. I take it he’s not here anymore?”

“Actually he’s right over there.” Irene gestures to a man waiting tables across the room, who sees her, waves enthusiastically, and flashes her a big thumbs up. “We had a talk about his journey and role in the Fellowship and figured out a role where he could thrive. He’s not allowed to touch any of the food but he can easily take orders and carry trays out.”

This stuffy, placidly formal woman is turning out to be the most interesting person she’s met in this job yet. Nadiya laughs again despite herself, wondering if there’s anything Irene can’t do.

They have a few drinks together, and Nadiya’s pleasantly surprised by how _fun_ it is to talk to her. Irene really is genuinely interested in her research and asks clever, creative questions Nadiya’s never had to think about in depth before. She’s in the Fellowship for reasons drastically different from Nadiya’s own; she’s honestly truly motivated by the desire to do good and help people, and Nadiya finds herself admiring Irene’s drive and fortitude. She’s never seen the point of existing for anyone but herself, or acting on anybody else’s behalf, but when she hears things from Irene’s point of view, she can kind of get it.

Of course, talk of the Fellowship eventually extends to discussing their newly granted powers. Nadiya’s had three glasses of wine over the past hour and is currently nursing a whiskey, so she puts her BAC at around 0.11% with a quick calculation. It took a few minutes for her to work it out while talking to Irene, so she’s guessing the alcohol’s hitting her pretty strongly even if she’s only just tipping into being drunk.

Oh and speaking of Irene, it turns out she’s been sitting on a _monumental bombshell_ all evening.

“You’re seriously telling me that you turn into a – a – giant goddess?” Nadiya gapes when Irene nods. “And you have practically _no control_ over it whatsoever yet. Like. It could literally happen right now, you could put a hole through this roof and destroy half the building any second?”

“Yeah, just about.” The woman giggling behind her hand and the destructive force of a thousand storms are kind of hard to reconcile as being the same entity.

“That is _wild._ What the _fuck_.” Nadiya grabs at Irene’s shoulders, leaning in close. “I have to – to study you. You’ve got to get in my lab tomorrow. Holy shit.” She gazes fiercely into the woman’s face, trying to discern a hint of the goddess lurking beneath her skin. A faint blush spreads across Irene’s cheeks. “Like, did you get possessed by a god? Are all gods real, or just that one? Or did this power _create_ a goddess inside of you? I don’t know which prospect is more existentially mind-blowing – oops –” she slips off her chair, and if it weren’t for Irene’s quick grab at her shoulders to pull her back up she would have fallen on her face.

Irene’s laughing outright now. “You’re pretty funny when you’re tipsy,” she says, depositing Nadiya back in her chair clumsily. Her cheeks are still red, flushed with alcohol or headiness at their closeness Nadiya can’t tell.

“You could rip me limb from limb if you wanted to,” Nadiya replies, still a little hung up on her companion’s _incredible_ ability.

Another hour passes in the blink of an eye as they talk and the time to catch the next flight off-base creeps up on them. They stand up shakily, Irene steadying herself briefly with a hand on Nadiya’s waist. She only keeps it there for a second but Nadiya swears she can feel its imprint burning brightly and wonderfully into her skin.

Outside the bar Irene stumbles and Nadiya catches her by the arms, leaning forward and instinctively pulling her close. They’re practically nose to nose, foreheads pressed against each other, and the world stops. Nadiya feels like she’s spinning. Irene’s eyes are such a rich dark brown. She’s never seen eyes quite that shade before. She’s beautiful. Nadiya has to close her own eyes to get her bearings before she does something very ill-advised.

When she opens them, Irene looks strange. She’s glowing, and almost _stretching_ , getting very slightly wider and taller slowly. “Oh, fuck,” she says, and then she’s gone, shooting upwards and out like a time-lapse film of a plant growing at 100 times its normal speed.

Kardala in all her glory is magnificent. She’s easily twenty feet tall and built like a brick wall, but she moves fluidly, more graceful than anyone Nadiya’s ever seen. Her entire face is covered in intricate tattoos now: radial lines branching from her lips to her chin, diamonds on her cheeks pointed in towards her nose, and rows of dots lining a “V” in the center of her forehead. Irene was beautiful, but Kardala is resplendent. Nadiya is the luckiest woman on Earth to get the chance to see her up close so soon. She doesn’t know what to say; where to start; she has about fifty questions vying for priority.

Turns out Kardala won’t give her the chance, however. The goddess takes one look at Nadiya’s face, screams in terror about a “hell-demon”, and throws her across the street. The last thing she sees is Kardala fleeing, terrified of _her_ for some reason, before her head bounces against the grass with a sickening _thud_ and everything fades to black.

The next thing she’s aware of is lying in a hospital bed with a very concerned Irene nodding off next to her. She’s holding a bouquet and has deep purple bags under her eyes.

“Oh – oh! Nadiya! Thank god, you’re awake,” she says, then yells out the door for help and hits a button above Nadiya’s head. “They said you could have a concussion but if so it’s mild and you should be totally better in a couple days. They say your biopolymer-based body-altering abilities softened the impact and should speed up your recovery drastically. I think, I mean, I’m not a doctor, but it all sounded good. I made sure you got painkillers too so you shouldn’t be hurting at all. I mean. You know what painkillers do, that was silly. Sorry. How do you feel? Do you remember everything?”

She’s babbling at the speed of light but at least Nadiya can completely understand her. Her mouth is frustratingly sluggish in replying but she slowly manages an “I’m tired but there’s no pain, thank you.”

A nurse bustles in, checks her vitals and reaction times, and basically confirms what Irene just said. She tells Nadiya she’ll send in a doctor in a few minutes to go over her condition, and hurries out of the room.

When she’s gone, Irene scoots her chair closer to Nadiya’s bed, wringing her hands. “I’m so, so sorry. I have no idea what got into her. I really didn’t mean for that to happen and I’m going to make it up to you however I can.” She’s looking down at the floor, and her normally cheery upbeat voice is subdued.

Something clenches in Nadiya’s chest. She knows Irene had no control over Kardala’s actions; there’s no need for her to be so mournful over them, especially since no lasting harm was done. “Honestly, Irene? Last night was the most fun I’ve had in years. I had a great time, and your transformation was fascinating. I’d love to study it in a controlled setting, preferably one with a thick layer of protective glass between us.”

Irene gapes at her. Then she collapses into laughter until tears form at the corners of her eyes. “You’re incredible, Nadiya Jones.” She leans over her, takes her head gently in her hands, and kisses her softly on the lips.

Nadiya kisses her back. She tastes like stale beer and Nadiya realizes she spent the night here at the hospital, which was incredibly sweet if completely unnecessary. She reaches up to tangle a hand in Irene’s hair and marvels at how incredibly soft it is. She sighs into the kiss – it’s been so long since she’s even thought about doing something like this, and it feels so good. Probably the painkillers are helping too; she feels like she’s floating a little.

After a minute that feels like hours, Irene slowly pulls away.

Irene’s blushing but Nadiya can feel the heat in her own cheeks too and she’s sure she looks like a fire hydrant. She’s also smiling wider than she can ever remember smiling in her life. “Do all your HR meetings end up like this?” she asks.

“Oh – oh, no, this entire night was an incredibly scandalous breach of appropriate conduct,” Irene says. “I should write myself up, honestly, and hold a hearing for myself.”

Nadiya snorts. She’s laughed more in the past 18 hours than she can ever remember. “Well if you need to call in a witness for formal testimony, you know where to find me.”

Irene winks. “I’ll keep that in mind, Dr. Jones. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to actually file that report on myself and then I’m going to sleep for two days. See you on Monday?”

“Yes, certainly,” Nadiya says, unable to wipe the grin from her face. She’s so cute when she winks, and the fact that she’s actually going to report _herself_ – _to herself_ – over this is ridiculous and adorable. Christ. Nadiya does _not_ need a distraction like this right now. She’s going to have to work harder than usual to quash these feelings before they get too serious.

But as she watches Irene turn and walk away, as her eyes involuntarily trace her curves, and as she contemplates her sitting in that tiny chair next to her bed all night to look after her, Nadiya thinks that for once that will be impossible.

Maybe that’s not such a bad thought, though.


End file.
